And He Loves Her
by pity-the-reader
Summary: She smiles at you and you have to smile back. You want to hate her, but you can’t.
1. Chapter 1

She smiles at you and the worst part is that you have to smile back. You want to hate her. You should hate her, but you can't. She should be the evil witch from Cinderella—yes, you do know who Cinderella is, Parker made you watch it before she came—but she isn't. You need her to be, and even you've got yourself worked up to the point where you hate her, she says something and you just can't help smile. She's too likeable.

His eyes sparkle when she comes in the room. You watch as his eyes follow her when he doesn't think anyone's looking. You always see. His face is one big smile.

And you still can't hate her.

She has long perfectly curly, auburn hair and striking violet eyes. It doesn't make sense to you anthropologically that she would end up with these features, yet it happened. You have dull flat hair that you hate and a forehead that's too big. She's got laugh lines coming out of the corners of her eyes like crow's feet and dimples that make their presence known regularly. And you can tell that's why he loves her. She's happy. You're sad. She laughs at his jokes. You don't understand them. She can talk hockey for hours.

She is never blunt. She's friendly but in a way that you can't help but love her. She can talk to Hodgins, Angela and Cam without trouble. You're starting to think they like her better than you. She and Angela have girl talks all the time. They go dancing together. They double date with Hodgins and him. She's an easy person to be around. She puts people at ease.

She's a good Catholic. She goes to church with him every Sunday. And after, they go to the diner and share pie. She makes him laugh. She lets him drive. She has a good Catholic, normal suburban family from Detroit. You're his partner with the murdering father, dead mom, and brother who's gonna end up in jail anytime now. She has a grandma who bakes him pie and a family who treats him like a son. You grew up in the system. She makes him feel smart. You make him feel stupid, even though you don't try to. She believes in marriage. She wants seven children.

And he loves her.

She took him so far from you. Every week they're holding hands. Every week she's kissing him, gently, like they're the only ones in the world. His hand is on the small of her back as he glides with her towards the door. He walks on air.

From that early Thursday morning two months ago, you could tell he was going to love her. There was never a doubt in your mind.

But you still couldn't hate her.

She was never gonna hurt him. She was never gonna let him go. Because they loved each other more than anything in the world.

You eat with him at the diner for the first time in nine days. You counted. You smile when he tells a funny story about her. You ask how they are, and he tells you that he loves her to the stars and back. He sighs when he's with you, because he's thinking of her. He asks you what he should get her for Valentine's Day and you tell him. You tell him because that's what friends do. You hide how much it hurts, because, well…he's happy and that's all that matters.

You leave soon. _I have to work_. He protests, but not like he used to. _Are you sure? We just sat down…_ But you can tell he's happy to go home to her. So they can snuggle up together and watch an old movie. One that they've both seen. One that they love so much that they always watch it every month. Probably one you've never seen or heard of.

You watch the SUV speed away and raise a hand to wave, but he doesn't look back. He's going to see her. He never looks for you anymore. He never asks you how you are. He doesn't show up with Thai food at midnight anymore. You can't knock on his door at two in the morning, because she's there. With him. In his bed.

You cry in the driver's seat of your car. You hit the wheel until your hands hurt. You take three deep breaths and your fine. You compartmentalize. Your glad that no one can tell when you've cried. That would raise some questions you don't have answers for. And you pull out of the parking lot. And you drive back to work. And you work until three in the morning.

You sleep in your office. Your happy when you get two hours of sleep. That's more than you've gotten in a month. You put on different clothes so Angela won't ask you about it. You put on make-up to hide the dark circles. You realize you forgot to eat all day. Except when you were with him. You don't eat much anymore. It's easier to keep going when you can think about work.

They walk in together, happy and in love.

She smiles at you and you smile back.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Hey, the second part of this is about 11 months after the first chapter (Valentine's Day to Christmas). I know I don't really go into it, but basically Brennan's just become so cold and distant from everyone that they kind of stop dealing with her. She does her work, they do theirs but no one really interacts with her anymore. They cared about her but as she avoids them and pulls away from them, she just kinda fell off of their radar. They don't really see how bad it is…anyway, read on._

It's Christmas Eve and you're 15 years old.

The lights twinkle on the tree and the wrapping paper glitters invitingly. It's been exactly 14 days, 3 hours, and 24 minutes since you last saw your parents. But you weren't counting.

They were going to get groceries and they hadn't came back, but they were going to. They couldn't just leave you. You were their daughter, for God's sake. They loved you, didn't they?

You kneel next to the tree and raise your eyes up, towards the ceiling, and you began to pray.

"Our Father,

Who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be Thy name…"

Your voice is true and clear as you pray to God. You ask him to bring your parents home, safe and sound, for without them you are lost.

It's Christmas morning and you're crying.

He doesn't want you either. He left this morning without even looking back. His bike roared into life and sped away in a cloud of exhaust. _Wait! Don't go! Please don't leave me too!_

He was turning the corner, but you sprint after him, your breath coming out in ragged spurts. _Polo! Polo! Polo!_

He was your hero.

He doesn't love you either.

You collapse into a shivering heap in the middle of the road. A car honks at you.

You feel the neighbors eyes upon you as you walk ashamed back to the house that was once your home. _That's the Brennan girl._ They whisper. _Such a shame, they were such a lovely family._ They shake their heads like they know something of your pain and then go back to their pretty lives.

Then the man in the suit arrived. A neighbor called you in. Thanks so much for that.

And now you're going to be taken away from the only place you've ever known because nobody wants you. You are worthless, unlovable, easily thrown away.

The tears run down your face. A harsh reminder of your inadequateness. The man at the door steps forward and reaches out uncertainly. You stop him with the bitter harshness of your voice. _Don't! Just don't!_

His cool, grey eyes and dark black suit mock your pain. He speaks to as if reciting "How to deal with Teens who are being put into foster care." He is brusque and direct in a business like manner that belies his indifference towards yet another case.

You catch your breath. Your eyes sting with the salt of your tears. Your whole body feels like its been stomped upon.

How do you fit an entire life into one garbage bag? One old, crusty black garbage bag with holes as large and gaping as the ones in your heart?

That was the day you stopped believing in God.

It's Christmas Eve and you're 34 years old.

And you're alone. Still. But it's okay, because you've been alone for a long time now.

You've learned to deal with it, because if you don't, something bad will happen. You don't talk about feelings because then you might get hurt. If you have walls that are high enough and thick enough, then no one can get in and leave you ever again.

You tell yourself it's better that Angela has a new best friend. That it's a good thing he has that girl you wish you could hate, because now no one pries. No one asks you about how long you've been working. No one argues with you. No one takes you out dancing when you have work to do. No one holds you when you're scared. No one kisses you under the mistletoe.

You're not sad. Nope not at all. You are strong and don't need a man to prove your worth. You are fine with being alone. You're a successful New York Times best seller. You are nationally renowned as one of the best forensic anthropologists in all of history. You can speak seven different languages. You can kill a man using only your pinky finger. You have a perfectly satisfying existence.

But she's happier. The happiest. Tonight was the night he was going to propose. He told Angela yesterday and you happened to overhear. Because they don't talk to you about things like that anymore.

Which is good. You don't need to be concerned with their problems because then they would ask you about yours. And that's not good. That would make you think about things you don't want to deal with.

It's Christmas evening and you're crying.

The lights twinkle on the tree and the wrapping paper glitters mockingly in your mind. You're at the work party and you realize that there was a present for everyone. Except you. Because they forgot. Because you don't matter enough for them to even get you a little thing to recognize the work you do together.

You hope no one comes into the bathroom. Then you'd have to explain. But they probably wouldn't ask. Which is better. Because that would just give them more room to hurt you. You might find that they didn't just forget to buy you a present, that they really just didn't want you to be a part of their party.

No. It's a good thing they didn't get you a present. You didn't want one anyway. They were stupid tokens of a ritual perpetuating a belief in something unreal. Yes. That was it. It was an story concocted for children. It was implausible and complete make believe. Reindeer don't fly and there isn't a jolly old man in a red suit just waiting to make you happy. You don't need a pair of colorful socks like the ones he gave to her. You don't need the photo album with funny little side comments. You don't need a coupon for ten free hugs.

You weren't even invited.

You had come into work to do identify some bodies in Limbo when you saw them. They were wearing paper hats, sitting around a decorated tree and passing out presents. Then they noticed you.

He stood up, letting go of her hand. The one with the engagement ring. She said yes. _Oh…uh, hey…we weren't expecting you…_a small smile graces his face as he tries to get past the awkwardness of it. _You wanna…uh…join us? We're just celebrating, uh, you know, Christmas…_

You should have know right then that it was a bad idea. You were clearly unwanted. He was just asking you out of politeness. But you can't resist to be near him. Because he is so kind even when he is hurting you so badly.

So your feet move without thought towards the group who smile fakely at you and offer courtesy greetings. You move to sit down next to Angela, but realize that she has turned to talk to her.

You are left standing as you look for a place to sit and settle with sitting just outside the circle. Just outside of the group of people that were once your family.

You can't help but notice his face, his whole demeanor. It's so happy. So calm. Without you anymore. Because he's found someone better. Someone without baggage or social awkwardness.

You make a bad excuse that they accept easily. Before you've even left, they've forgotten about you and are continuing to make conversation.

That was the day you stopped believing in yourself.

_Thanks for reading. Hope it was decent._


End file.
